


here we go

by jennyquill



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, alternative universe, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 08:38:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5450312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennyquill/pseuds/jennyquill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>clarke and lexa ft. suburbia, dark, and heaven. three stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	here we go

_here we go into the wonderful unknown_

 

1.

suburbia

 ****  
  


When you run, it is never out of fear.

 **  
** Rain is pouring down from the sky and showers the parking lot as both of you dart through the cars. Actually, you’re the one who’s darting. Clarke’s a good twenty or so feet behind you. **  
**

**  
** You turn around and laugh because she’s wrapped herself in that ugly beach towel - the one with the tropical fish - and she’s sloshing her feet through the puddles. She looks like a runaway nun and this makes you laugh even harder. **  
**

**  
** “Hurry up,” you say. **  
**

**  
** “I hate flip flops,” she yells back. **  
**

**  
** You finally reach your car and unlock the door, throw your bag across the backseat and start the engine. Clarke hobbles into view in the side mirror and you watch her raise her middle finger to the sky. And just like on cue, thunder rolls over the lot and lightning strikes the clouds. **  
**

**  
** She stumbles into the seat, towel and all, and throws her tote where yours is. She’s pouting and a bit out of breath, but you’re smiling, because this is a horrible date gone perfectly right, and she sticks her tongue out at you. **  
**

**  
** “That was fun,” you say. Clarke burrows her nose behind the fish patterned towel. **  
**

**  
** “Why are we so horrible at planning pool dates.” She reaches down, slips off her flip flops, then chucks the offending footwear into the backseat. "We didn't even get to swim." **  
**

**  
** “I told you it was going to rain.” You ease out of the parking lot slowly, the rain still heavy and pounding. **  
**

**  
** “Thirty five percent chance, Lexa! What kind of plot twist is this.” Clarke sits back in her seat and shakes her head sadly. “I’m never gonna trust Channel 5 again.” **  
**

**  
** “We’ll just do this another time,” you say. You glance at her profile and your heart leaps a little bit. She’s soaked, face flushed, her happy fish towel comically clashing with the grumpy twist of her mouth. The blue nail polish you painted on her fingertips two weeks ago is already chipped. You reach over and cover her hand with yours. **  
**

**  
** “One week left till senior year," you say. "We might as well enjoy it." **  
**

**  
** You can't believe that you've made it this far - that both of you have. **  
**

**  
** Clarke peeks up from under her towel. She softens, squeezes your hand, kisses your cheek. **  
**

**  
** "Crazy," is all she says. **  
**

**  
** The vibe dies a little as the rain continues to smash against the car. Clarke moves to connect her phone to your car's stereo system and she queues up a playlist. A croony piano ballad comes up and you side eye her. **  
**

**  
** "Top 40?" **  
**

**  
** "Always." She grins. **  
**

**  
** You roll your eyes and Clarke takes this as a sign that she should sing along and so of course she does and it's loud and obnoxious and totally off-key. You love her a little and a lot more and this makes your heart drop. **  
**

**  
** You haven't had the college talk yet. You haven't discussed how you - how us - is going to translate to long distance. You know you've been putting it off, even though you're pretty sure you know where you want to apply. **  
**

**  
** But you have time, you remind yourself. You have a year between then and a week between the start of that year and you wonder why you're letting something as far away as college get the best of you. **  
**

**  
** You've always been one to over-plan. **  
**

**  
** Clarke's head banging to a Sam Smith ballad and this lightens you because she still has that stupid fish towel on and it's like watching Mary Magdalene at a rave. **  
**

**  
** You have one week left, you tell yourself as you cruise down the streets in the rain. One week to make another pool date, to re-paint Clarke's nails, to try out that new roller rink over in the next suburb. One more week to not think of deadlines and distance. **  
**

**  
** The song switches and Clarke does a little dance in her seat along to the bass line. She's lip syncing and making crazy gestures and just like that she's reeled you in. **  
**

**  
** "Just enjoy it, Lexa," she says and there's a sparkle in her eyes. "We might as well." **  
**

**  
** Both of you dance and scream along to Ariana Grande until the rain stops and the sky clears. **  
**

****  
  
  


2.

dark.

 ****  
  
  


She runs and she's terrified.

 **  
** She reaches for her gun and shoots, just shoots, blindly and horribly and runs because she needs time, more time. **  
**

**  
** They're everywhere and the night veils them so well. They're somewhere and Clarke can't tell her hand from her gun. They have Octavia and Clarke has no strategy. **  
**

**  
** She's a spy, goddamn it. She always has a strategy. She's the best in her division, best in the government, best in her country. She has extensive training in every field there is, yet she's the one that walked her team into a suicide mission. **  
**

**  
** She's doing her very best, she swears it. **  
**

**  
** Bellamy screams in the dark haze. Clarke is screaming right with him in her head. **  
**

**  
** She stops shooting and waits. A scurry of movement flies by on her left and she jumps. **  
**

**  
** "Agent 351 come in," Raven's voice prickles through Clarke's earpiece. **  
**

**  
** "Raven where are we," she breathes. **  
**

**  
** "I don't know. Monty's trying to relocate your signals but this is a trap, no doubt." **  
**

**  
** "You think," Clarke hisses. **  
**

**  
** "Hold up. Someone's intercepted our transmitter - " **  
**

**  
** There's a loud thud and Clarke's pushed to the ground and she feels hands pull and her earpiece flies out. A subtle crunch lets her know that Raven won't be contacting her anytime soon. **  
**

**  
** Clarke pushes the intruder off and grabs for her gun but they're too quick. It's impossible to see anything as she gropes helplessly in the dark. The intruder seems to know what she's going to do ten steps in advance because they've already taken her pocket knife and thrown her weapon belt somewhere else. **  
**

**  
** She's pinned to the ground under the intruder's weight and their hand covers her mouth. Clarke squirms but her arm is bent at a painful angle. Bellamy keeps screaming. **  
**

**  
** "That's how they followed you." The intruder's voice takes her back. It's a woman's voice, younger and softer than she imagined. **  
**

**  
** "What?" Clarke says but she wonders if she even heard her. **  
**

**  
** "Your earpiece," the woman whispers. "They've been tracking your every move since you left Vancouver. They knew about your plans and sent you false directions through your system." **  
**

**  
** Clarke can't see her. She feels every word the woman says right next to her ear in hushed tones. The woman removes her hand and places it around Clarke's neck and squeezes. **  
**

**  
** "There's a river a few miles south. Take the boat and follow the current. Octavia will be there. And use these." She pushes something hard into Clarke's side. "They will help you see in the dark." **  
**

**  
** Clarke can't believe this is happening. She thinks she passed out. She must be hallucinating. **  
**

**  
** "Why are you helping me," Clarke chokes out. **  
**

**  
** "I don't like Cage Corp either." She releases her hand and stands up and Clarke can finally breathe. **  
**

**  
** "Wait," Clarke says. "Thank you." **  
**

**  
** "Not a problem, Agent Clarke. May we meet again." **  
**

****  
  
  


3.

heaven

 ****  
  
  


You are always bleeding. Blood for your people, blood for your land, blood for their peace.

 **  
** Blood must have blood, as they say. **  
**

**  
** In another life, you could quit. You could throw your knife into the dirt and walk away. In another life, red would not seep into your lungs and destroy you inside out. **  
**

**  
** But if you bleed for you, who will bleed for them? **  
**

**  
** So you learn to steal. **  
**

**  
** When she comes to Polis, when her hardened eyes meet yours, when she lashes out and rips every last hope of not yet out of your hands, you can tell that she is bleeding, too. **  
**

**  
** When hundreds of hands raise crystal goblets and chant _heda heda heda_ , she looks to you and you can feel every promise that you once muttered crumble and shatter between the distance of your lips to hers as she slowly raises her own goblet and whispers, long live. **  
**

**  
** When she presses into your backside in her sleep, unconsciously throwing an arm around your shoulders, you wish that your heart were not so closely connected to your head, so that maybe, perhaps, you could love her in this life the way you've loved her in the last. **  
**

**  
** You steal these moments. **  
**

**  
** You steal the lingering touch of her hands and the way her boots leave dirt on your tiles. You take the sound of her laugh and the flutter of her kiss and you cherish the mold she makes when she's wrapped against you and you steal her harsh jokes and her soft smile and you steal all that and more. **  
**

**  
** She must know of what you rob of her. She must know. **  
**

**  
** She doesn't mind. **  
**

**  
** She steals from you, too. **  
**

**  
** And in the end, you are a conglomeration of Clarke and Lexa, a scattering of stolen moments and pieces of you that have melded into her and pieces of her that have melded into you. **  
**

**  
** Her wounds become your wounds and it is a dangerous game you play. **  
**

  
You don't mind the blood you spill for her.


End file.
